Nobody Nothing Nowhere
by KChasm
Summary: Satori Komeiji meets an odd man. :30 Days of Writing, prompt: mad:


Touhou Project was everything'd by Team Shanghai Alice. Not me.

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"I might be Nanaishi," the man had said. She had pressed him for his name for some time, and for some time he had refused to answer, only fluttering his hands helplessly and tilting his head up to expose the pale flesh of his throat like a bird abandoned and hungry so soon after hatching. Normally, such effort was unnecessary. A mind, given a question, leapt upon itself to provide an answer, and even if it went unspoken Satori Komeiji could catch it, could hear it as it ran through that mind. It was an ability she had little control over, and even now, nested in the heart of the Palace of the Earth Spirits, she could hear the minds of those close enough outside the walls, their thoughts running: oh no I'm late she's gone serves them right what've I got that's great I didn't want to see _him_.

There were only two minds she could not hear within that dreaded circle, in fact, and they were both within the same room. The first was her own. The second belonged to the man who said that he might, might be Nanaishi.

She called him Nanaishi, anyway. She had him washed in water that had been heated in the depths of the earth, and fed him supper across a table far too long to seat simply two. And then, when the last of the rice and the meat and the different kinds of vegetables had been eaten or pushed politely away, she asked the man sitting across from her, "How did you come here?"

The man's eyes settled upon her. The were dark, puzzled. "I didn't come here," he said. "There's nowhere to come from." There was a preciseness to his voice, as a student reciting facts, without thought to their meaning.

"You must have come from somewhere."

"Nowhere," the man insisted. "From nowhere. But I'm here, now." He puts his hands on the table, to the side of his bowl. He spread his fingers wide, closed them together, spread them again.

Satori sighed. "Very well," she said. "In that case, how did you get to the library?" For it had been within the library that she lifted her gaze from her book and seen him, leaning against the wall, famished and filthy. "Surely somebody let you in?"

"Nobody," said the man.

"Nobody?"

"Nobody. There's nobody there. Nobody else. Only me, and you."

And even deep within the Palace of the Earth Spirits, even in that grand palace that was built for multitudes but housed only two, Satori could not believe him. It was simple enough to close her eyes and feel the thoughts that were not hers rise through her ears: oh no I'm late she's gone serves them right what've I got that's great I didn't want to see _him_. The man was lying, she thought. Lying, or mad. If only she could _know_...

And then she stiffened, because she had never thought that before.

"No library, either," the man added. "I don't know any libraries. There never was a library." He looked down at his bowl, and spread his fingers wide, and closed them again. "Only this room, and me, and you. Nothing else."

Yes, Satori thought. Mad. Completely mad. "Where are you from?"

"Nowhere."

She smiled, peeling her lips backwards. "But you must have come from somewhere," she said. "Where were you born?"

"Born? No, I was never born." And a spark grew in the man's eyes to light his face, though Satori still could not hear his mind. "I was never born, never had parents. Never had a childhood. Never had a birthday, never grew up. I've always been this way, only I never existed before this moment."

The spark died. The man's eyes grew dark. The man quieted.

Satori was quiet, too. Then a thought occurred to her, and she set her own hands against the table, like the man's, though hers were still. "I see," she said. "And is that why I cannot hear your thoughts?"

"Thoughts? No, no. No thoughts. Never were any. That is," and his preciseness grew ragged, clipped, "can't see a thought. Can't turn one in your hands. Can't hear one. Of course not. No. No thoughts."

"But I _can_ hear them," said Satori, and she could, even as she spoke: oh no I'm late she's gone serves them right what've I got that's great I didn't want to see _him_. "Anything with a thought that runs through its consciousness, I can hear. So why is it that I cannot read yours?"

The man sat, and did not answer. Only the fingers of his hands moved, apart, and then closed again.

"Anything?" he asked, finally, and it was the first question he asked.

"Anything," said Satori.

"I see," said the man, and his breathing grew quick and harsh. "I see. No thoughts, then. Never were any. Can't see them, can't hear them. No thoughts."

A mistake, Satori thought. "Nanaishi," she said.

"No thoughts," said the man. "And no mind to put them in, either. No mind. Can't see it. Never had one."

"Nanaishi," said Satori, again.

"Nothing on the inside," said the man. "No mind, no lungs, no stomach. No heart. No tissue or muscle. No bones."

Satori stood. "Nanaishi!"

"No ears," said the man, and indeed he seemed not to have heard her. "No eyes," he said, and his gaze was so dark it might have been true. "No _Nanaishi_."

Satori said nothing more. Presently, she began to gather up the bowls, first hers, and then the one set in front of an empty seat.

And outside, the thoughts continued to run: oh no I'm late she's gone serves them right what've I got that's great I didn't want to see _him_...


End file.
